The Martyr
by Maverick87
Summary: I was a fool.
1. The Martyr

**Legal Disclaimer: I don't own any SEGA related characters….**

**The Martyr**

Paxil

Qty: 55

Prescribed by Dr. Quack.

Miles Prower

1101 Mystic Ruins Rd. 38291 Station Square, NY, U.S.A.

All of them are there. All of them are here.

Fifty-Five….

F

i

f

t

y

f

i

v

e

p

i

l

l

s

Fifty-Five….

Fifty-Five pills…

Fifty-Five Anti-Anxiety pills.

This is all I have to work with.

Well not really…

I could have kicked a chair.  
Slit my wrists.  
Left the car on in the garage.  
Bought a gun.  
Drank too much water.  
Anything.  
Anything can work.

I've decided on overdose.

A good plan right?

The rain beating against the windows; it thinks so.

The bottle of Southern Comfort thinks so too.

This isn't right you know. Nothing is…that's what it feels like. You don't feel right hearing me and I don't feel right doing the deed.

Compare yourself to a God.

Do you feel great now? Do you think you're the greatest now? You're not. I'm not. We're scattered rocks on a playground compared to the ones we praise, the ones we pray to.

It started with stress. And stress will end it. Right? Right…

Why didn't the drugs work?

My reflection in the mirror isn't looking so good.

h

a

h

a

h

a

I Look Funny For Sixteen. Blue eyes sagging, insufficient sleep.

The insignificance of the act. Darwin would get it. Couldn't somebody else?

Strength didn't come with birth.

I thought weakness _meant_ power. Living in doubt and darkness should have made me that much better.

The sink is dirty, the bathtub is dirty. I should have cleaned this place up. The finale could have been much better planned.

Alcohol never arranges these things though.

The feeling is right.

The shaking of the bottle is like music. Beethoven's Fur Elise makes a theatrical atmosphere, a touch of glory.

The phone is ringing.  
Pick it up  
Caller ID  
Pick it up.  
Sonic T. Hedgehog  
Pick it up.  
Listen.

"Tails! What the hell did that message mean? Are you okay? Bro if th--"

Click.

Hehehehehe.

He's worried.

The caring has finally started. The respect has come, and the respect tastes good, good like apple juice, a cool breeze, an orgasm.

Are they gonna listen now?  
Remember the things I did?  
Saving lives? Helping Sonic?!  
I was worth it! It's too bad that they couldn't see through the transparency of me; the feint happiness, the self-fulfilling prophecy.

The prophecy…? The prophecy? I remember…the prophecy from back then…

Althair told me I was the 'chosen one'.

Chosen for what? Chosen?

To save the world?

Sonic.

Protect the Master Emerald?

Knuckles.

Immortality?

Shadow.

w

h

a

t

i

s

l

e

f

t

Don't judge a book by its cover they say…

My cover, my cover completes the puzzle; no one has to even open the damn box.

A puzzle we are all…but how many pieces really complete _me_?

One?

How about fifty-five?

How about another shot?

One more?

Ok.

The taste burns and I can feel it in my ears.

I wish alcohol was faster.

Time?

The black magnetic clock on the wall says nine-thirty.

Two hours since I started, started drinking, started thinking.

How much longer?

He'll come.

He'll come to stop me.

Guilt will hurt him and destroy him, he can't take that.

Who could?

Am I being rash?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Why then?

Not good enough.

My first breath was the same.

Mom?

Dad?

Why couldn't you be here? You're not dead. So what's the excuse?

It was the defect wasn't it? It's always the defect. Two tails with one big mistake.

Picked on.  
Beat up.  
Abandoned.  
Let down.  
Low self-esteem.  
Physical shortcomings.  
Screaming into my pillow.  
Waking up every single morning to the same monotonous sludge.

The list could go on and on for the freak, the orphan, and the loser. Those words used to sting, but the pain has deadened. Along with everything around me.

G

e

t

o

n

w

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h

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It's time.

Lie down in the tub.

One.

It's tricky without water.

Two.

Easier.

Three.

Getting the hang of it.

Four.

He'll be here soon. I need to hurry…

Eight.

This…getting harder.

Fourteen

Hunnnnnnnnnn.

Twenty.

K.e.e.p.y.o.u.r.s.e.l.f.t.o.g.e.t.h.e.r

Twenty-….

Wha---a---T?

K—nOcking?

"Tails! Tails are you okay?!"

SoNIC?

To-to-too-lat-late?

I

neEd

tO

gEt

OuT…

get

Help.

Crrrawwwwllllll t o t h e w indow!

Tou-ching? Who i-s to-uching?

S-omeoNE? So-nic?

H-is gre-en…eyes…

Wh-at t-he h-ell h-ave I done?

_Maverick87-2008_


	2. Warnings

**THE MARTYR**

**CHAPTER TWO: WARNINGS **

THE FOLLOWING NOTICE FOR ALL WORKERS OF THIS INSTITUTION: IF YOU SEE ANY "UNUSUAL" BEHAVIOR FROM PATIENTS IN THE AREA PLEASE CONTACT SECURITY IMMEDIATELY AND TRY TO KEEP THE PATIENT CALM AND CONSCIOUS

Warnings. Why the hell is this posted on the walls? If a "psycho" is walking around, are they really going to have time to read something like this?

Probably not.

They'll probably be trying their best to calm him down.

They're throwing phonebooks, pens, pencils, a cup of coffee, calendars, and screaming.

One attempted suicide on an otherwise clean record and people think I am here to kill them.

And this is supposed to calm me down?

The problem with warnings is that people never read them. They never see the signs.

But don't worry about it. Don't worry about me.

In another thirty seconds I'll be immobilized with high voltage tazers and syringes of morphine.

In another three minutes I'll be back in my padded room.

In another five hours I'll be disoriented and talk incoherently to the walls.

It's called sedation level three and the orderlies get a real kick out of it. A lot of people find it funny to see me act retarded, like a moron.

This is Tails remember? The genius who was on par with Dr. Robotnik? The sidekick who always had a plan? The little brother everyone loved?

Feelings like this are overrated.

What are patrons and friends when they abandon you?

Nothing? Dead? Alive? Ghosts?

I don't know…

All I know is that the next time I ask to go to the bathroom they're gonna just laugh, and walk away.

* * *

I only get one visitor.

He goes by the name Sonic the Hedgehog. You've heard of him. Everyone has.

The door clicked open two hours ago and we talked for awhile. It was before my "escape" and after my daily "retardation" medication.

* * *

Eight in the morning just like he said. He said he'd be here and he is.

It's sad to see him look at me like this. I still don't get it; why he visits everyday. Maybe he's trying to make me feel better; make me feel like I mean something to someone. Heaven knows nobody else comes around.

I'm slumped over in the farthest corner of this padded paradise. It's good to be far away from the door and all the noise.

He darts right over to me and kneels down. He's staring right at me and I can barely look at him.

He shakes me to see if I am cognizant

"Tails? You all right buddy?"

"Mhmm."

The hedgehog smirks a little. He can tell I'm messing around and signals the orderly with a nod to leave us alone.

The door clicks and Sonic backs off a little.

"You really should try being more active."

"Why's that?"

My words feel strained. It's almost like I need warm-up just to be able to talk normally.

"Because if you acted like you actually cared about your life, you might get out of here soon."

Now I am chuckling.

"Sonic I am never going to leave this place."

Now he looks pissed off.

"With an attitude like that I can see why you'd think that way!"

Here he goes. Just like every other time, he keeps patronizing me. Telling me I didn't know any better and all that jazz. Half the time I try to listen to him, but it's hard.

"Tails? Are you even listening to me?!"

I lift my head up sluggishly. My teeth have to be gleaming white from this smile.

"You'd make a really good mom…you know that?"

Smack.

He just slapped me and my face burns a little.

My "big bro" just hit me…

And here I am lying on the floor staring at the ceiling like before he got here. Shouldn't I be angry or pissed or something?

Nah.

I just don't have the energy to do anything except talk.

This could be why morphine is considered a drug.

"You want to stay in this hellhole the rest of your life, fine by me! But don't think your shitty cynicism is gonna get me to leave! I will come here everyday until you're better. Got it?!"

Again with my laughing. For the first time in eighteen hours I am standing up.

"Sonic….Sonic….Sonic…..You think I want to stay here? I tried to kill myself remember? I _wanted_ to die. And after taking this little three week vacation, I _still_ want to die, and if you're not going to help me do it…"

I mimic the hedgehog with a smirk of my own and pull my three trademark bangs backward.

"Then I'll do it myself."

Sonic just punches the wall, shakes his head, and leaves.

Figures.

* * *

I've pitched him the whole scenario before.

No one searches you inside these institutions right?

Then why can't Sonic just bring in a scalpel or a knife? Hell, I'll do the honors and he can just deny any involvement in the whole thing.

He reminds me that he's better than that, and that I'm better than that too.

Maybe Sonic just doesn't know what hitting rock bottom really is.

Sitting Indian style in the center of my cell I am trying to concentrate.

Pain like this is unfair. It's the kind of hurt that can make anyone feel uncomfortable or antsy.

When you have to go to the bathroom this bad you could literally bring yourself to do just about anything to end the misery.

Sure I could pee in here, but I do have dignity. I may be an animal first but being human comes in at such a close second that the line just blurs.

I crawl to the door and whisper through.

"Hey! Come over here! Quick!"

It usually takes a couple of seconds before a worker appears.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Whatever…"

The skunk begins to walk away before I call him back.

"Wait! Please! Man it's been hours and I'm really hurting!"

"You _really_ need to go that bad?"

I give him a grave nod.

"Ok…But if you tell anybody I did this..."

"I won't."

The jingling of keys accompanies the turning of the knob.

This is where the sudden rush of ecstasy hits me. I realize this is my chance. This is the moment to take my life into my own hands, and then drop it like a Ming vase onto a hard, cold, tile floor.

"All right dude, come on out."

The skunk turns his back for a moment.

You'd be surprised with how much someone trusts you.

I would guess it takes about maybe two, possibly three seconds to lock a door.

Slamming a head against the point of a doorknob only takes me one.

It's funny now because he's shaking, twitching, and they're called muscle spasms. By the time someone finds him I'll be out here. Or better yet, maybe I'll be dead.

You know…this place is strange…

The walls in these halls aren't padded. The floors in these corridors aren't padded. The medicine carts are scattered with pills. Blues, greens, purples, reds, oranges; all designed, all manufactured, all created to calm and nourish you.

I keep walking a fast pace, almost a jog.

Stop.

About seven, to eight carts down are the pink ones. The same ones I tried to take my life with. Even from far away I can still see the etched letters of my killer; Paxil.

I could take them all right now. Ten little cups of five capsules each that could be enough to put me down and end this little hospital, "Wait until you get better", charade.

But I want more than that this time. It's better if I just keep going.

See, when you're face down in a bathtub thinking of only interpersonal gratifications, things can get a little edgy and selfish. Sonic shouldn't have to see me in my apartment; he should see me on the news. You want to be publicized, known.

My living years have been neither and maybe that's why, that's the final straw I was reaching for.

It's like being in the desert dying of thirst and all you want is a little taste of water. Yet when you finally find that canteen that is supposed to relive you, all you find is sand to dry your broken tongue and wispy eyes.

Ask me how I feel and I'll tell you I feel fine. Ask me what I've been up too and I'll tell you nothing. Ask me if I believe in God and I'll tell you I hope to.

The thing is, you can ask all the questions in the world, but the only answers you'll find are the ones you crave.

My answer is different from yours. I'll probably die early unlike you. The house I grew up was a box compared to your mansions. My childhood is the throat that coughs up blood in the snow faraway from your boxed lunches, warm beds, and weekly allowance.

You could ask me about pain and how I relate to it. That's it. I don't. I embrace it for the one goal I've desired the past couple of months.

Death.

I want to see the other side. I want to go through time and live through my dreams. Some are scared of it and I used to be. But now euphoria is calling me out and she wants to tell me how great I am.

The hallway ends to a T-intersection.

To the left it reads.

**Doctor Examination Rooms **

**Medical Laboratories **

**Bathrooms **

To the right it reads.

**Front Office/Waiting Room **

**Lunchroom**

**Main Complex**

Hahahahahahaha.

To piss or to die? Is that the real question?

Screw it.

If these walls could talk they'd have a hard time with urine in their mouth.

It's time to make a scene, I'm heading right.

* * *

This could be the last door I'll ever open.

My hand is hard to stay steady as I do so.

A nicely dressed mongoose is answering the phones. She's got some pictures of a boyfriend, some family members. The desk where she sits is cluttered with paperwork. Coffee softly floats in a black mug near the old, outdated computer she works with. Her curvaceous body is wrapped in the telephone she delicately talks into. Kids, wives, husbands too are all here in this lobby. Panicked faces and collective gasps are just requiems to my beloved fantasy.

For a second the thought of turning back seems suitable, I just need to open the door and pretend nothing happened and turn the knob and…

Huh?

A warning sign on the back of this door?

THE FOLLOWING NOTICE FOR ALL WORKERS OF THIS INSTITUTION: IF YOU SEE ANY "UNUSUAL" BEHAVIOR FROM PATIENTS IN THE AREA PLEASE CONTACT SECURITY IMMEDIATELY AND TRY TO KEEP THE PATIENT CALM AND CONSCIOUS

Everyone needs to relax. Shouldn't they know I am not here for them?

I hear a woman's scream that only chains the ones that follow.

The coffee spills coolly down my face.

And it tastes bitter and good.

They say you can see through a person's eyes if you stare at them hard enough. I am looking through everyone, everyone and their green, black, hazel, and blue eyes. Fear is lavish to bathe in, and the ocean before me is dark, and bleak, and full of promise.

A pen and pencil set still gift-wrapped inside the box comes next. A graduation gift? How old is this mongoose?

The attempt of throwing a phonebook lands near my dirty feet.

It's almost laughable how confused people are. What's next? A napkin? A donut?

Side-stepping to the right I safely miss the "discus like" throw of a twelve month calendar.

This is all too pathetic. I realize the secretary is only one throwing things, and trying to stand up to me, and actually showing strength in the eyes of a "madman foxboy".

Shouldn't they be trying to calm me down? I haven't done anything to prompt such an attack.

Heh.

The problem with warnings is that people never read them. They never see the signs.

But don't worry about it this time. Don't worry about me.

In another thirty seconds I'll be immobilized with high voltage tazers and syringes of morphine.

In another three minutes I'll be back in my padded room.

In another five hours I'll be disoriented and talk incoherently to the walls.

In another day and time this would happen.

However, right now people are emptying their purses and wallets as I walk towards the main complex.

Outside the glass, soundproof office no one is around. The foyer is completely empty and this is what calm is.

You enter the eye of the hurricane.

Two silver elevators seduce me; because they want me to take them to heaven.

Press the button. Listen for the ding. And take it to the top floor.

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

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45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55R….

The doors slide open to apparent blindness.

I am welcomed here by the sun and the cloudless sky. Looking outward, there are no other buildings around just this one, just this institution. Fields of lush green are followed by borderless mountains on the horizon, and I hear the alarms sounding.

My escape is known.

Today is warm and fuzzy and my fur just sucks it all in.

The edge is metaphorical because this isn't the first time I've been here.

Jump.

Limits are written through pharmacy prescriptions.

The wind rushes past me as I tumble.

A breaking point can be a fifty-five story drop to God.

Tears? It's just the wind entering my eyes right?

Meltdowns aren't nuclear, they're human, and they happen all the time.

A two-tailed shadow is forming from the ground.

Don't forget to say hello to your future.

Learn to fly.

Because for the first time, I'm doing it.

_Maverick87-2008_


	3. Spin House

**The Martyr**

**Chapter 3: Spin House**

I've started thinking about things again. More than you know, hell, more than I know.

Because where I am, right now, is stuck.

I'm the biggest hypocrite in the world. I tell you I want to die, I want to end this pathetic existence, I want to go to heaven, and I want out, I want to get out of this morbid atmosphere.

Bullshit.

The concrete was coming forward, faster, faster, I could hear screams; it was music to my ears. This situation became glory. This situation defined glory. It was release. A kind, sweet, embracing hug from your dad, telling you he's proud of you, and you know you want to hold onto that moment forever. This might be the last time. Glory is a dying battle. It's a battle of wits, strength, tears, air, pain, love, anger. A last breath to take it all in, we all know the imminence.

Glory fades.

Spin my tails and escape.  
Spin and live.  
Spin and breathe in  
Spin and curse.

You know those mountains I mentioned earlier? Home, sweet, home. A nice rock to sit on, no voices but my own, slightly cold on my paws, but that can be dealt with. The thing I am dealing with is me, myself, and I.

Dare me to keep this up. Who's there now? Miles or Tails? Knock, knock, anybody?

Miles will let me fall. Throw me in traffic, arsenic in fruit punch, bullets to the brain, blades to the wrist, fire to the fur. He's a jerk who loves my suffering, and knows secretly I like it too. He's the asshole who sat behind you in math class, throwing paper wads at the back of your head. But no matter how many times he picks on you, or tells you that nothing is worth it, you still find him charming, at least charming enough to keep him around. Maybe he's making me stronger. With Miles you'd never know. Miles is fucking insane.

Tails?

Tails is the guy I would marry and date. Screw homosexuality, he's the perfect person. He cries at night and wants to be coddled. He aces all the tests, he tells me I can do anything, he puts the knife away, he puts me to bed, he puts the pieces back together better than anyone else I know. Tails wakes me up in the morning, gets me to class, runs away from bullies. Heh. He's a coward. He's never dealt with anything serious, and who's to blame him? I could and he'd take it. No arguments, no deals, he'd just nod and cower. Good ole Tails. He's a good boy, but damn it when is he going to shape up and be a man? Probably never.

Tails backed out and ran. We were done and down and dead. He spun my namesakes and here I am. Even I had to admit I was scared. But maybe living on is the better ideology.

I should ring the doorbell, they can hear it better.

This cave is all right. I noticed the hole flying in. Exhausted I came down and just took cover. There's always those times when you're head is about to explode. Depends on a lot though, stress, thought process, motives, a lot I tell you. Calming down is easy, but the pressure still quakes. Headaches are horrible. It seems like every other day I have one. But that is the least of my problems. Like I said, this **fuck-up** is going to be a hard **cover-up** to **set-up**.

We've talked about my counterparts.

However, the bicycle is actually a tricycle. The big third wheel? The one that creates motion and actually accelerates? That's me.

Call me "Mails" or "Tiles" because I take the best of both worlds. Better yet, call me Prower. It is my name.

Three wheels, one vehicle, and one destination; death.

Miles Tails Prower will die.

That sounds horrible. It almost happened.

We're getting off the subject. Let's talk about me.

I'm funny. It may be dry, it may be black, it may be fucking confusing, but humor is humor, and a bone in your body. Not the illustrious "funny" bone, no it is called the humerus. See? There's another thing. I'm smart. Well, we're all smart, but I put it to the best use. School is for Tails, sadism is for Miles, but when it comes down to it, Prower kicks the most ass. Who escaped the insane asylum? Mhmm. Me.

The back wheels are only there for support because the big wheel does the steering. I'm the strongest one. Don't tell them I said that though. Otherwise I'll either be dead or crying. Neither of which would help much at this point.

What the others don't get, what my friends don't get, is that I am in control. Hard to believe I know. I like to let Miles and Tails think they got me. They'll argue and argue too. Telling the other one that they messed up big time, or that if insert Tails or Miles here did things, life would be much better. They're both wrong.

Tails would leave me in good care, but nothing would be accomplished. I'd be working a middle-class job and wondering why I wasted most of my life.

Miles would kill Sonic. Not in the sense you think though. Take out his legs or something. The way to kill a hero is to make him completely useless. You kill his pride. You kill him. Simple as that.

Again though, where would that end me up? Jail? Is that better than a mental hospital? Rape isn't exactly my idea of a good time. Of course knowing Miles he'd try to take over and die from multiple stab wounds.

It's hilarious how these sets of three are coming out. Take a page from Freud. Miles is "Id", the chaos, the basic drives of the animal nature. Tails is the "superego", the conscience, telling me how to do things, and criticizing and refusing to uphold Miles' desires. That leaves one left, the "ego". I am the mediator, the controller. I tell Miles he's fucking crazy, and I tell Tails to stop being such a pussy. They both usually shut up after that. If anything, they hate being insulted. But lately, if you couldn't tell, Miles and I have been getting along a lot. Which is funny because most of my life Tails has been my friend. You know, the one I want to marry? My psychologist told me this is the hardest stage of my life; adolescence and puberty. I just might agree, because lately it really is.

Spin my tails and get out of here.  
Spin and fly towards the sky.  
Spin and smile.  
Spin and kill Sonic.

All your life is, is a set of goals. Maybe I'll finally have the drive to complete them.

The front door finally opens. Took them long enough, I've been standing here forever. Miles is smiling viciously. He walks up and ruffles my head.

"Prower! What's up bitch? You ready to finally fuck things up? Or did Tails tell you otherwise?"

Superego just rolls his eyes.

"You do know I'm right behind you Miles? I have ears."

Id looks back.

"Yeah you do Tails. You also got a fucking vagina."

"I think a brain is worth more than a penis."

"Just another reason why you'll never make in this world Tails! All you do is bitch and moan. Heh. That actually seems appropriate."

"Well at least I finish what I start!"

"You want to say that to my fucking face?"

"I just did."

Both growling and hissing. It's always like this. Miles puts up his fists.

"You're gonna b--"

Shaking my head, I stand in between them, breaking up the fight.

"Will you both shut up!? I don't have time for this shit! Are we going to assimilate and get this over with or not!?"

"You're the boss."

Id just cracks his knuckles. He doesn't want to say it, but he's excited as hell.

"I'm just wondering why it took you so fucking long to grow a dick!"

"Another word Miles and I'm leaving you here."

The fox's jaw just hit the pavement.

"Pro! You can't just leave me here! Remember what I did for you!? You wouldn't be a virgin without me remember? Remember?!"

"Rouge was a whore and anybody, including me, could have slept with her."

"Tails you better watch yourself, or I might say something to make you ball like a pussified idiot."

"So now you're making up words? Oh how I tremble! Someone save me! Prower please help!"

* * *

I don't know what happened after that. I started flying. The next thing I knew they had caught up to me. They're faster than I thought.

From above, Miles looked down into my eyes. His scowl seemed to say everything.

"Don't think for a second that I won't do it this time."

"I'm not thinking about you Miles. If anyone doing this it's myself."

Tails appeared in front of me, teary and heartbroken.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"Just promise me you won't try to interfere Tails."

"I can't promise anything Pro."

"Just promise me you'll be there to help me."

He looked a little taken aback. He was used to me ignoring him and now suddenly I wanted him around. I didn't know how things were going to go down, but Tails could keep me leveled headed, and if there was anything I needed in this situation, it would be that.

"Okay…"

His voice squeaked. The kid was torn up about this more than I thought. But right now, it didn't matter.

"Both of you try to keep up with me. We'll be there sometime soon."

Jetting ahead, I could hear both of them mutter something, but the wind drowned them out.

* * *

"Stupid bitch. He thinks **he** can contain **me**?"

"Miles you need to calm down."

"Tails, let me tell you one thing."

"What's that?"

"You better be prepared to do whatever it takes."

"Miles, is this really what you want from life?"

"It's the only thing I've ever wanted."

* * *

Looking back from where I flew from, I could only see a few things behind me.

Good.

Evil.

And my house exploding into a million pieces.

* * *

Spin my tails and fly above the city.  
Spin and find him.  
Spin and breathe out.  
Spin and dream.

Spin out of control.

_Maverick87-2008_


	4. Answers

**Chapter 4: Answers**

Don't ask me why, but I'm up early up today. Seven in the morning I know, it's not like me. It's not like me at all. Coffee isn't bad when you put enough cream and sugar in it. God knows I need a lot of it. I just wish you could do that to life when things get rough. What? Mortgage payments? Add cream; add sugar, now things are sweeter and easier. Drinking it "straight black" is tasting life's misery. However, French Vanilla is a great band-aid. Shit, anybody will do anything to cover up the stuff they don't like. This coffee, this is what I'm trying to do; I want to hide the bitterness.

Tails is why the sun rose with me watching it. Damn me, but thinking about everything that's gone down recently, it's hard to not think about him. Such a stupid kid, attempting his own life, scaring me, scarring me…For what?

That night was disgusting.

Take the one person you're closest to and put them in a bathtub dying. That'll make things change for a worse; a horrible, unimaginable worse. If it was somebody I didn't know, I would have still called the paramedics. But when it is someone you love, hell the one person you feel attached to, you'll do just about anything. I tried CPR, I shook him up as hard as I could, I slapped him a couple of times across the face, I yelled, I screamed, I prayed. When you don't see something coming, how else are you supposed to react?

Fear can work in strange ways, let me tell you. This isn't the same kind of fear, like almost having a car crash. No, it runs deeper than that, but I can't explain it right. Time can stop, time will stop, and time does stop when you're scared enough to piss yourself. I almost carried him to the hospital. It would have taken less then fifteen seconds, no doubt, yet, the ambulance team arrived, and I just took a back seat. They shoved a tube down his mouth, a stomach pump. My little brother choked and sputtered and Tails' nightmare had encased us both, but the thing is, he looked frightened too. So I thought maybe this isn't what he wanted. I only hoped he'd be crying the next day and telling me how sorry he was. And he told me that. The next morning, he told me how sorry he was. He said he was sorry that he didn't die soon enough. He said he would try harder _next_ time.

I want to know how you're supposed to react to that.

The kid was in a public room, with others who had tried suicide and failed. A support group actually, but when he told me that, when he told me he'd find a way to reach heaven, he'd fins a way to die; I just threw up in my mouth. There had to be something there. Did he not remember I saw him? The way his eyes met mine, they spoke volumes; apology, regret, sadness. I tried to hug him. He pushed me away. He told to never touch him again.

It wasn't the way it happened, or how he made it sound, but that scowl, that anger in his face. Things made a little more sense then. Tails did want it, he wanted it, and it broke my fucking heart. It's one of those things you don't want to imagine. And even if you think I'm being a little overdramatic here, then fine, but when it occurs to you, when you have a loved one who would _rather die then be around you_, you'll understand the pain.

After that, I talked to the doctor. Lockdown, containment, padded cells, even a straightjacket, I wanted Tails contained. He agreed. The old goat had seen the outburst, and thought it would be for the best as well. I just wanted him back to normal.

* * *

Drugs, cocktails of all kind, hell they even gave him a stronger version of the drug he tried to kill himself with. Mood elevators, placebos, sedatives, truth serum; he got them all.

However, senses can shatter. Perceptions can dissolve, reform, and take new shapes. I used to think people could never change. The fact? Tails was an angry, sad, fox who just couldn't take it anymore, or at least, that's the way he put it.

Finding him the next day in a pool of his own tears, huddled in a corner, mumbling words, shaking; I considered it a complete reversal of fortune. Guilt had truly sunk in, and he was ready to come home.

We hugged. Tails held me so tight I couldn't breathe. It felt like someone had taken me to heaven.

Whispers told me to never leave. He told me he couldn't take it being alone. He said there was a monster that made him do things he couldn't control.

Two days removed from suicide, and now there was a _monster?! _

Again conversation with the doctor/specialist varied. The goat told me Tails had been given lots of morphine, sedation levels were high, and the results I saw were to be expected.

Expected? My little brother as a complete fucking mess was to be expected?

With that I left, pissed off more than usual.

* * *

Day three…by then I wanted to know why. Who was testing my patience this way? Why the hell was this so hard? Why did things change again?

Tails was in a chipper mood and it was surprising. Well sort of.

Our conversation started fine, but near the end it got…how do I say this? Haunting? Scary? All I knew is that he wasn't normal.

* * *

Station Square Sunrise Mental Hospital, founded in 1998 for those who had lost their way along the path of life. The thirty-fifth floor of a fifty-five story conglomerate that tested and sold medicine products. The name had been created from their biggest seller before becoming a corporation; contraceptives. I had heard of them from about four years ago, when Amy and I were serious. We had sex a lot. Luckily she had never gotten pregnant, so I always thought of the Sunrise Corporation as a life saver.

Ironically, Tails was here for the exact same thing; being saved. Not as some pregnant girl high school drop-out, but as a confused kid lost in the dark. As always, I rushed through the glass doors and the waiting room to see him. It only took about five minutes because I showed up right when visiting hours started. The funny thing is that they frisk you, search you and make sure you have no sharp objects or weapons on your body. Obviously I don't, so they just let me on through.

Yet I have razor sharp quills on my back. Great security at this place.

The halls were long and white and the bleach invaded my nose. The doors were white too, tall and thick though, with about a foot or so of solid metal. A small little mail slot is at the foot of the door for food and water retrieval. Shit, if I didn't know any better I would thought of the place as a prison for psychos, not a rehabilitation center for "lost souls". All the orderlies have these large steel keys to open the doors. They turn them one way clockwise, four ways counterclockwise, and then three times clockwise again, just to open the door. The reason they do that is so that if a mass breakout was attempted by a patient, it could be stopped within seconds of occurrence. I know this because I was curious enough to ask.

Room 10-10-35 is Tails' room.

He still wasn't in a straightjacket; I consoled myself that the drugs were doing enough. The last thing I really wanted to see was Tails tied and bound up like a freak. He wasn't a freak by any means; he just needed some help and some counseling.

When I entered, his head shot up to look up at me. His eyes lit up quicker than gasoline.

For the first time in three days I smiled. My thoughts thanked God. This craziness was over, finally. A snap of my fingers sent the orderly away. It was my universal symbol to tell him I wanted to be alone with Tails. We had established this the day before. Not like this was all a big deal, it was common practice for loved ones to see their friends alone around here, no matter what crime they were being kept for. Funny, I heard about this one mom who stays here. She drown her oldest son in their swimming pool, set his body on fire with lighter fluid, and then buried him under the tallest tree in the back yard. How can people be allowed to see her? It's stupid. Why is she is still alive? Insanity or not, people like that should be put to sleep. An insanity plea has to be the biggest cop-out in judicial history, bar none.

However Tails looked ecstatic.

"Sonic!"

They say time travel isn't possible, but the way he said my name, it took me back ten years.

"How's it going little bro?"

"I've been better, but then again in my situation who is?"

I slightly chuckled.

"So I see."

For a minute we just stared at each other; a dead silence. Almost awkward, but at the same time, endearing. His smiled finally faded from content to stoic.

"Sonic…I'm sorry. I fucked it all up. I didn't mean to lose it. I don't know though. At the time it just felt right."

"What do you mean Tails?"

Strong language didn't shock me. At sixteen it made complete sense.

"I mean what did I have to live for? I felt…unused. Robotnik just had to die didn't he?"

Strange to learn his motives, stranger to learn that he wanted Robotnik alive.

"Is that what this is about? Usefulness? Tails you've always been helpful! You're a big part of the reason why I was so successful! Without you…I'd…I'd be nothing! I'd be dead! Even today!"

When I said that, he broke down. Hysterical laughing and crying at the same time. A couple of minutes later, after some deep breathing, my little brother regained his composure. His eyes again filled with tears, his body shaking like the previous visit.

"It took you eight years...and I almost took my own life…and all this time, and just now, now you tell me I'm worth something?"

Right there was when I felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world. Half of his life, half of his fucking life! He just wanted to be appreciated! I didn't know what to say to him. The hardest part was trying to look at him. To look at those sad disks that told me how much of a monster I was. Who the hell was I? Just who the fuck was I?

They say fame kills friendships, but maybe it just kills.

"Tai—"

"Do you know what it's like?"

"What? What's like?"

"Sonic, you were never picked on as a kid were you?"

"No, but that doesn't mean—"

"It means everything."

Quietness again and my memories came on swift wings; everything we ever had done together came back and bitch slapped me in the face. Yet through that, I remembered something important.

"Do you remember Tails that… that I saved you when you were a kid?"

"You did."

"Then why are you acting this way? I could've left you there in that alleyway. I could've let you starve."

"That's funny Sonic, because ever since that day, that's exactly what you've done…"

Now I was getting angry. How could he just blame this all on me? It's not like he had such a horrible life with me. I treated him like the person he was! Not some freak like everyone else! I mean seriously…What the fuck?

"This isn't my fault Tails. You know that much. You could've have told me you felt this way. Why didn't you?"

He just sat back now against the wall, his eyes tightly shut.

"They say you can see through someone if you stare into their eyes hard enough."

We were getting nowhere with this.

"I don't want your bullshit philosophy. I just want you happy again. I…just want you to be all right."

Like striking a match, his eyes opened and lit again in a cobalt flame.

"I'll be all right if you do one thing for me."

It sounded like too tempting of an offer, but I took the bait anyway.

"What's that? I'll do anything. Shit, I'll even have a press conference to proclaim that you helped me out so much!"

"Sonic, it's not that. You see, I want you to kill me."

"You've got to be fucking kidding."

"Rip a quill off your back and give it to me."

He was serious, but by my hand I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't put my little brother away. Screw honor, screw it all. Even if he deserved it, I wouldn't bring myself to that level.

"No."

"Just let me go."

"I said no Tails."

He kept talking in a calm, cool, voice. It sickened me that he was so carefree with life and death. There was no comprehension for this. How could he be this way? Where did the Tails I know go?

"Sonic please help me."

"Tails stop."

"It's the only way Sonic, you've got to realize that—"

I exploded.

"Fuck off Tails! I wouldn't kill you even if you murdered my family! I just won't fucking do it! You're better than this shit and so am I! I don't care how long you have to stay here, but you will get better, you will get better, and everything will be fine!"

"Just keep telling yourself that Sonic. You shouldn't blind yourself to truth."

"Suicide?! Euthanasia is truth?! Well then my whole life is a fucking lie then! Damn, I should have killed myself a long time ago then huh!?"

Tails just sighed loudly; my rage meant nothing to him, like a gust of wind hitting a brick wall.

"Everyone has their truth Sonic. Our truth filters the lies, it wipes away the dirt, it heals the cuts and bruises, and it erases the past. Three days ago I found the truth. My truth is to die. Everyone's truth is to die. Because through life, death is the only veracity to look to. So Sonic, I'll ask you one more time. Kill me. Kill me and bring legitimacy to the one lie I've been living."

Again I lost my words. I thought I knew him. I thought we were still friends, but this made certainty disappear. It was over. He had lost reality. He lost any focus he ever had. But stubbornly, I wasn't going to give up.

"I'll let you live the lie Tails. I swear to God I'll make you believe in it."

"That's a tall order for you."

"So was killing Robotnik."

"Then why can't you finish me? You started me."

"We're not done yet."

"More hopeless hope."

I couldn't take anymore of this. Without a word, I turned and went for the exit. Handling this was going to be harder than I ever imagined; my little brother was insane. One last time, I looked at him harshly.

"I'll see you tomorrow Tails."

"You're going to regret this."

"Is that a threat?"

"More like a promise."

* * *

That conversation was nineteen days ago.

Nothing has happened. Mood changes, sure, but nothing more.

I should be glad he's alive, but he's still sick. He's still crazy and I don't know what to do.

Maybe something's on TV; I'll do anything to clear my head of this mess.

* * *

Shadow and I met at a local café a week back or so. We usually meet up every month to talk about our lives, keep in touch in case of another catastrophe to the world. For some stupid reason, I always expect him to complain about a problem, yet he never does. It's always me doing the talking and sounding like an incoherent loser.

Before we barely could sit, I gave him the lowdown. I told him how Tails was acting, how he hated and loved me every other day, or how he wanted me to kill him. I actually told Shadow I was scared, nervous of what might happen, and he sounded surprised to hear about Tails threatening me.

My black counterpart had a solution. He told me I should've let Tails die in the bathtub. He said that now, what I'm dealing with, was inexcusable on my part. If Tails was that weak, he said, if Tails wanted to go, I should've have kept his wishes and never helped him out.

I told him I'm not that kind of person.

Shadow said everybody is that kind of person; it was something about me not looking deep enough.

After that, we concluded our chat.

I didn't feel satisfied, but Knuckles had a cell phone, so I hit him up on the way home.

Common knowledge around the city was that the former hero, Miles "Tails" Prower, had tried to kill himself. Word travels fast, and Knuckles thought I was calling him about something else.

"Hello?"

"Knux. It's Sonic. How are you?"

"Fine…Is he dead?"

"Who?"

"Tails."

"He's not dead."

"Oh. Then where is he?"

"A mental hospital."

I swear a minute went by without us talking. This wasn't easy to speak of. We both cared about the kid. Tails used to be so happy, inventing stuff, doing well in school, Knuckles knew about this too. With age, Tails had become a better friend to the echidna, occasionally flying up to Angel Island to see him. We were like his two older brothers, who just wanted to look out for our own.

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah Knux. It's not pretty. He's changed."

"Explain."

"One minute he's crying and telling me how sorry he is, telling me he messed up big time, and all this shit."

"That's typical. He's just guilty about his actions."

"Yeah, but that just the tip of the iceberg. The next day he'll tell me to fuck off. He'll tell me that saving him was worst thing I ever could've done to him. Knux, he said he wants to hurt me. He said this whole 'charade' was just him trying to hurt my feelings. How the fuck do you deal with something like that?"

"I don't know…He said he wants to hurt you? That doesn't sound like him at all."

"He's not the same anymore."

"Do you see him everyday?"

"Yeah. 8 A.M. in the morning, seven days a week."

"You should limit your visits."

"Huh?"

"If anything Sonic, at least from my point of view, this looks like an act. He's trying to play with you. If you change the days you visit him, or maybe stop visiting at all, he'll break off the act. He'll realize you're serious about this, and that you don't care how long it takes for him to heal."

"That sounds good. I'll try it. Thanks Knux."

"No prob."

"You want to come with me to see him sometime?"

"I don't think I could help much from the sound of things."

"All right. Again thanks for the advice Knuckles, I needed it."

"Always. See you around."

"See ya."

* * *

I haven't tried either of their tactics. I still see him all the time. All the time and nothing ever wants to change.

It's seven-thirty, the news is on.

"Dis is Antoine D'Coolette reporting from zee zeen of zee crime; it has appeared dat a young skoounk has been attacked outside the holding areas of dee Sunrise Mental Facilities. The attackeeer seems to be none othder than Miles 'Tails' Proweer who recently has been admiittttted here as a victim of attemptteed suicide. No one knows dwhere the fox is now, but de subject is labeled extremely dangeerrrous and caution must ze taken. Pleaze call authorittess immediately if you zee him. Antoine D'Coolette, reportzing out!"

"Thanks Antoine we'll try to keep our eyes peeled for any 'suspicious' behavior. Now on to Terry with sports..."

Click.

Oh god.

Oh god he's coming for me.

* * *

It took me some time to get here undetected, but I made it anyway.

Midnight and Sonic probably has a clue. He knows who I am. All the lights are on.

The real question is how do I get in?

Hey look. A brick.

I pick it up. Heh. This is going to happen.

* * *

It's midnight and I've been fucking shaking. The lights are all on because that's the only way I'll see him. And if I can see him, I can stop him, because stopping him is only fucking way. I won't kill him though. I'll never put myself that far.

But I can fucking stop him.

And I'll do it.

* * *

I turn the knob slowly just to check. Unlocked, unlocked because there are no surprises with Sonic, he knows what's up.

His house still looks nicely cleaned. White ceiling, blue ceiling fans, white cabinets, blue countertops, blue carpet, and whoever designed this house did a nice job.

My mind wonders a little. How is this going to go down? Are we going to talk and talk? Recollect old memories? Play the heart strings until they break down? That would make sense.

I used to watch a lot of movies.

That would mean Sonic is upstairs.

* * *

Wumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwumpwump.

Tails is coming up the stairs. He knows I'm up here.

But I'm higher than you know.

This is the first time I've ever been in my own attic.

I told you about fear, but this excels, this accelerates. Heart, lungs, eyes, nose, ears, hands; all are in overdrive. Adrenaline helps so I'll do this right. He'll know. It doesn't matter how freaked out I am, he'll know.

Tails will know everything I'm about.

* * *

Every room has been checked. He's here though. This has bait written all over it. He wouldn't go this far without being here. Sonic may be scared right now, but he's never backed down from a challenge.

The air conditioning is blowing hard. I shiver just a little.

It's colder than cold.

What a metaphor for a time like this.

A creak….movement…..from above.

How sneaky!

He's in the attic!

* * *

That string is going to pull down the trapdoor. With it, will be Tails. The ending could be right here.

Shit…

I'm breaking down. This is the craziest thing I've ever done. Not fighting Robotnik, not saving the world, not dating Amy Rose, nothing can compare to this.

The rope is pulling and the barrel is shaking like mad.

I won't let go of the trigger.

* * *

X moves with Y. A and D are close behind.

* * *

"Don't do this!"

Tails is screaming at me. His eyes are red and puffy; veins are popped out all over his body. I've never seen him this livid. Miles is holding him in a sleeper hold, restraining him, choking him.

"Will you shut the fuck up?! It's over! This is it! We're going to bring him down!

Id tightens the hold. Superego is losing consciousness.

"Let him go Miles. We're ready."

"Oh fuck yes!"

Superego falls to his knees, holding his throat. He's trying to say something but he can't speak. His voice, at least for the moment, is gone.

Miles just stands beside him, watching him, just to make sure he doesn't get up.

I pull the string and the trapdoor falls slowly.

* * *

Three, two, one; I can see the tips of his ears.

Slam.

It's open! Fire! Fire! Fire! Shoot him!

Why isn't my finger moving!?

Damn it! I'm choking up!

* * *

I saw this coming a mile away.

Sonic is holding a shotgun. He planned to shoot me as I opened the door; a very smart plan for anyone trying to kill a psycho. However, he's just standing there. Like a million times before, we are just staring at each other.

This is getting really old and boring.

Why hasn't he fired yet? I don't understand this…hesitation. Isn't he scared of me? I thought the movies we're supposed to end like this!

Damn it Sonic fire! Shoot! Kill me! Give me truth! Give me salvation!

His eyes move away from mine.

What the hell?

He's looking behind me.

He signals with a nod.

Fuck me.

* * *

X and Y turn forward from behind two sixteen inch doorways. Pistols drawn, they fire upon the aggressor.

A and D watch closely as reinforcements.

* * *

Miles gives me a huge look of fear.

I think we both agree this is the biggest underestimation of the century. Sonic the Hedgehog had a bigger plan.

* * *

Rip, tear, blood, lead.

I don't know how many bullets just entered my body, but the pain is unreal and inviting.

A soft, slow, fall to the carpet, this is how it goes. Cut! Print! That's a wrap!

I get a glimpse at Sonic as I fall.

He's crying uncontrollably. I just watch him throw the shotgun towards me. Weird, it didn't fire upon impact with the floor. It just made a huge thud.

* * *

A swift jump and now I'm down beside him.

I pick Tails up and he screams into my face. He has to be in so much pain right now, it's unbearable.

We're both crying.

"Is this….is this what you wanted?"

He weakly smiles through a mouth of blood.

"Yeah...Thank...you...Sonic..."

* * *

It's too late and both have realized what the hell just happened. Miles comes at me in a furious rage, as I lay there stomach first

"Prower! You fucker! I'll fucking kill you! I'll ki--"

Through hazy eyes I watch him breakdown. His skin dissolves to bone, bit by bit. His eyes melt away and fade to dust. Fur, tails, everything burns away. A skeleton, first ash, then gone.

Tails can't stop sniveling. The kid is trembling before me.

"W-why did you h-have to do t-this?"

"It was the only way Tails."

"Don't die on me! Please!"

I grin; dried blood is all over me.

"Too late…"

Flashes of light, some colors, and……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………memories……………………………………………………………Sonic…………………………………………………………………………………………………love……………………………………………………………………………………………………life…………………………………………………………………truth…………………………………………………………………………………everything………………………f……………………………………………………………………………………………a……………………………………………………………………………………………d……………………………………………………………………………………………e……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

* * *

His eyes have closed.

It's over.

Tails wanted to die so I made it happen, I set it up. I called the S.W.A.T team. I told them Tails was coming to kill me. We set up an elaborate plan to eliminate him.

But I won't tell anybody about this.

This is to remain completely confidential. Everyone's names in the reports will be changed; the news will report that they found him dead. He passed out from the morphine and never woke up.

No one will see his body except me.

No one will be at his burial except me.

This is how is has to be. This is how I want to remember it.

I didn't kill him, but I let him die.

* * *

Four days and I got to see the autopsy of him.

All this time, all this work, all this praying, every little detail of the last month, is now completely understood.

When I came into the police station, they instantly took me to a private room.

I sat down and talked with the doctor who examined him.

Tails was already dying before he was shot.

The personality changes, the crazy behavior, the wanting to kill me, the wanting to die, it was all because of one thing.

Tails had a brain tumor. All this time there was no control over his actions or words.

And I killed him for it.

My love killed him. I did for him. I believed in him. The hardest decision I ever had to make in my life didn't even have to happen. If I would have just taken him to the doctor, he still be alive and happy.

* * *

It's six in the morning, the sun is rising, and everything has changed.

I've tried sugar and cream and honey and artificial sweeteners and milk.

But life, like this coffee, is always going to taste like shit.

**Epilogue**

My name is Miles "Tails" Prower.

I'm sixteen years old.

I used to be a hero and I used to be loved.

Yet, plans never come out perfect do they? There are variations, plan B's, different paths, different routes, all towards the only things we look forward to more than anything else; our goals.

But there are other ingredients.

I remember when my life was so simple. So simple that you never thought about the here and after. Life meant saving the day, going to school, eating pizza on Friday night, it meant being with the ones you cared about.

For years that was it. That was the entire spectrum.

However, endless bliss can't last, and even if it could, I'd go insane with it.

Looks like I went crazy anyway.

But it wasn't my fault.

Miles was formed from my anger, Tails formed from my vulnerability, and I formed myself through sanity and sleepless nights. Trying to focus with constant headaches and throwing up all the time started feeling normal. Different personalities felt normal too. It seemed that no matter how crazy I felt, it felt okay in the end.

Miles said he was making me throw up because I was weak. And apparently needed to be aware of it. Tails said he gave me headaches to control my actions.

And for one whole year this is how my life went.

Painkillers didn't help, Vicodin didn't help, Paxil didn't help, drinking didn't help; nothing helped me. I felt alone and abused. Like a homeless kid on the street.

You can't live like this.

Tell me suicide wasn't the answer. Tell me living could be so much better than that.

I'm young, real young and as much as I hate to admit it, I really don't know that much about life.

But I know it isn't supposed to be like this.

I killed myself to erase my demons.

I killed myself to let go of all the pain.

And so now here I am.

I'm on Sonic's roof.

But don't think I'm alive.

No I died, I saw my own body laying there in a pool of blood. There's just no way I'm alive.

Yet I'm still here.

I told myself there was a heaven, but I'm a ghost now, and everything is empty.

Then why am I still here then?

Maybe he needs me. Maybe someone out there needs me. Maybe that is enough.

But let me let you in on a little secret.

It isn't and it never will be.

_Maverick87-2008_

**There. This story is over. I'm simply wrote this originally as a oneshot. It was a cliche concept (Tails killing himself) that I wanted to just do a good job on. But after writing all this, I feel like I made it something more than that. Or a least I think so.**

**Again a quick thanks to all who read this and I'll be seeing you around. **

* * *

* * *

The Martyr


End file.
